Black Operations: Special Delivery
by Jin Won
Summary: One war. One team. One fate.
1. Chapter 1

_"A leader is a man who had the ability to get other people to do what they don't want to do, and like it."_

PT. 1

**2245 HOURS 23-JUNE-2551 (MILITARY CALENDAR) -//-**

**UNSC PROWLER "PHILOSOPHY" –ENROUTE TO VIMUR**

The all purpose body arm was smooth to the touch, it utilized the best in the UNSC technology area, of course it wasn't SPARTAN armor, which could shrug of plasma bolts with ease. No, they utilized stealth to the best of its capabilities, using active camouflage (AC), while providing the maximum protection. It wasn't SPI armor, it was too weak, if it took a hit, and its plates would burn like tissue paper.

Quinn shoved a magazine into his MA5B assault rifle, its extended eighty round magazine clipped into place with a satisfying _click_. He looked at his team, it consisted of three other members beside him, they all sat there checking their weaponry, and making sure everything was in order. He gave an invisible smile at them and nodded approvingly before looking down at the floor of the extended bay Pelican.

The Pelican was custom made for their operations, recovering covenant weaponry, technology and _living_ specimens. In the middle of its floor held a holo-tank which their mission operator would tell them what they were doing. The operator was their eyes and ears for whatever was going on near other parts of the planet and gave them codes if they had to crack into rebel facilities, or translations.

Next best thing to an AI.

He tugged on his armor, it resembled ODST combat armor color and all but it didn't have the bulky pockets dotting all over, instead he carried a belt pouch which held ammo, data pads, just the necessities. It also didn't carry the same helmet; it had something resembling the SPI armor but much smaller, fitting tightly around the skull. Yet unlike the SPI armor, it had limited AC and after four hours the cells would drain and they would be exposed.

"Sir, you okay?" The question surprised Quinn as he looked up at the young man with a mop of black hair, and dark brown eyes. He was only twenty-four and a Corporal, he was interviewed by Quinn himself and found that the young man had to ghosts, no real fears and he was a patriot. That was the only thing ONI needed, patriots. They couldn't get enough. Between rebel sympathizers and those alien worshipers he found Nylund to be an old friend or the younger brother he never had.

Quinn gazed at him, noticing he had the glazed look in his eyes. He gave a weak smile. "No. I'm fine. Just thinking."

"Well sorry for bothering you, sir." The boy looked back at his S2 AM sniper rifle, and slammed a magazine into the oversized weapon and looked down the Oracle high powered scope.

"Apologies aren't needed, Corporal." He braced himself against the metallic wall as the black filled Pelican, the rear bay was closing.

His eyes scanned to the second member of the team, Alexandria Crichton. The youngest member of the team, twenty-three. Like Nylund she was a patriot, unlike Nylund however she wasn't interviewed by Quinn, and since this was his first time with the team he didn't know how she would react fighting the Covenant. She was a former ONI spook, so she would either react in an extremely good or extremely bad way. She brushed her short brown hair out of green eyes.

She was looking at her own MA5B, checking the magazine, before shoving it into the receiver. She then flicked on the safety and reached down for the M90 Shotgun at her feet, her primary weapon, she reached down into a pouch took out a 12 gauge shotgun shell and fed it into the tube.

She didn't even glance in his direction.

The last member of the team was Thomas Reilly; he was the oldest member of the team, thirty-one and second in command if he was ever to get put out of action. He had seen action, killed his own share of Covenant, rumors had it he had a two grand count under his belt. A third of those elites. Quinn had a deep respect for the older man, and appreciated when he piped in advice. He was _always_ right. "Yes sir?" Reilly was looking down at the floor, his arms propped up against his legs. He didn't even glance up.

"Nothing." The rear bay door finally shut and darkness descended upon them, the crimson lights flashed on, bathing them in red light. Shadows still loomed in every corner.

Quinn donned his helmet; it flickered once before its light amplifying technology made everything almost as clear as day. His eyes turned towards the holo-tank in the middle of the bay, it sputtered and began to spark to life. A small figure appeared, it resembled a man standing looking at them.

The man wore a tuxedo, pitch black with a white shirt, his black hair was cropped short and his brown eyes were cold and stared at the three soldiers. "Good to see that you actually made it on time, lieutenant. I thought we had to turn the ship back for you."

"Operator…" The man was civilian, he had worked with him before a few years back when his team was late to the landing-zone (LZ) and the man was piloting the pelican was half way out of the atmosphere when he told the man to turn the craft around and pick them up. The planet was glassed two days later, if they hadn't gotten picked up he would be nothing but carbonized bone. "Just give us our mission and we'll be on our way."

The foot tall figure nodded. "I'll try to keep it short…" The small image faded and a new image popped up. The bird like figure, bi-pedal figure, arm shield and those wide demon like eyes. A Jackal. It was then followed by a smaller creature, a large tank mounted on its back, and the breathing apparatus on its face. A Grunt. They stood side by side, doing recorded loops of them pointing at the team, the Jackal shrieking, and the grunt raising and lowering its plasma pistol.

"Two days ago Vimur came under attack by a Covenant cruiser that deployed fifty thousand troops into the city; it was followed by two more craft, a frigate and a destroyer. The frigate landed on the outskirts of the planet's largest city –Hella. It deployed troops to make a very large camp that rings around half of the city. A camp on this scale is too large to just be there, we have recordings of Scarabs in the vicinity operating mining the surface."

The pictures of the two faded away and the Operator came back up. "Reports show Civilians have been evacuated and none remain in the city but if you find any human captives evacuate them out of the camp to safety. Primary objectives are laid out as followed; destroy covenant camp with low yield FENRIS warheads to establish a beachhead on the planet. Secondary objectives are as followed, capture any covenant technology –anything deemed valuable to the UNSC shall be captured and brought back. Evacuate all civilians and military personnel –we do have some reports that General R.T. Gaines has been captured by the Covenant and being interrogated. If found he is your primary objective. Am I clear?"

"Crystal, Operator."

"Good. I will provide mission updates, and update you on your mission counter. Remember, the UNSC Fleet arrives in twenty four hours. They need that beachhead."

The image faded into black, the Operator added three more words before the image faded into nothing along with a thumbs up.

"_Come back alive."_


	2. Chapter 2

"_Fighting wars is not so much about killing people as it is about finding things out. The more you know, the more likely you are to win a battle"._

**2315 HOURS UNSC D77-TC (SPEC. OPS.) "PELICAN**

**ENROUTE TO VIMUR- ALPHA SQUAD**

They exited the bay rather quickly, the pilot by the name of Ensign Henry Patterson maneuvered the ship, and his co-pilot Master Chief Petty Officer George Gomez stairs down at the controls focused intently on the craft was doing.

Unlike normal Pelicans this one complemented many weaponry suited for its task of destroying the enemy. Two missile pods on each "wing", a nose mounted chain gun, and a rear mounted chain gun to provide covering fire. Flare launchers, extra fuel pods on the rear mounted wings for an extra hour of flight time, extended bay enough for seventy people crammed in. Plus an extra two inches of titanium-armor helped as well.

It was a warhorse and it was better than flying one of those marine designated ones, they flew like rocks and it a banshee got on your tale you could forget about it.

The planet was blue-green jewel in the sky, and he pushed the ship to accelerate towards it. The _Philosophy _would stay out of view, and they would provide only spy satellites to relay the medium of data to the team. Hopefully the Prowler wouldn't get hit, if it did, they would be staying on Vimur.

The jewel grew and entered through the dark side of the planet. There were no enemy cruisers but most likely they were planet side, being large military bases, deploying and receiving troops.

The Pelican swooped over the edge of the Covenant camp, it was bright, it seemed like a million search lights pierced through the dark, but they didn't notice the massive craft swoop over head and pull a tight curve preparing to set down a mile from its outskirts. The engine dampers prevented the noise and the pitch black paint absorbed any light that came in its direction. At least they knew that almost five hundred million credits to build the craft were being well spent.

Patterson opened an internal COM channel to the soldiers in the bay and spoke in a calm voice. "Ladies and gents we're coming on our drop of point, there is no way I'm settling down on the ground, you are going to have to rappel down. Once your mission is completed, radio to me and I'll pull you out for EVAC. I provide also close air support, so if you need a quick strike I'll be there." The soldiers in the rear bay could feel the ship decelerate and then stop, the rear bay opened again.

_Jesus… That's a long drop. _Nylund looked over the edge; the drop was twelve meters down. The corporal watched the ropes be attached to small hooks on the ceiling and thrown out the back, they descended quickly before coiling at the ground. He looked at the rest of the team, Reilly was tying a silencer on to the muzzle of his MA5B and Quinn seemed to be moving towards him.

Quinn opened a private COM to his team, before he reached and gripped the rope at the end. "Well gentlemen –and lady, keep it tight, once we all hit the dirt I want Reilly, Nylund scout ahead and check out the Covenant perimeter, I don't want contact. See if there is any weak point. Crichton, you're with me, we're going to go the opposite way and check for anything that can give us a quick and quiet slip into the camp."

Quinn's team nodded to him as he brushed past them and moved to the edge of the Pelican. He wrapped his hands around the rope.

A slight tug. _Tight_.

The rope was good.

Quinn looked at his team gave a brisk nod, and gave a final step of the Pelican and fell in a controlled decent towards the ground. He hit the ground hard and he rolled away from the pelican, MA5B was brought up, pressed against his shoulder. He activated his light amplifiers and viewed the forest through an eerie black and white hue. He then switched to heat, the heads-up-display changed and h e saw nothing that was out of the ordinary for a forest.

He raised a fist and pumped once.

Next came the nukes, the FENRIS were rather small nuclear weapons but they still packed a punch, and they were clustered in sixes so they were much deadlier than originally intended. The only thing that could forestall a Covenant assault, even if for a day. And it would create a rather large beachhead without the death of countless marines.

They were lowered by two ropes, and gently landed on the cold wet grass. Crichton came next along with, Nylund. Reilly pulled up the rear carrying the weapons sack.

They formed a semi-circle around the rope and the FENRIS warheads, Quinn opened a COM channel to the crew of the Pelican. "Gentlemen, thanks for the ride. Be on station."

"Aye, Lieutenant." The ropes were winded back up by a winch and the rear bay door closed, the craft disappeared into the black, barely any sound coming from it.

A whisper in the wind.

"Reilly take point, Nylund right side of the warheads and Crichton left side, carry them in between you, I'll bring up the rear," He took the weapons sack from Reilly and slung it over his shoulder. He set up a NAVPOINT in the direction of the Covenant camp, they didn't need to put the war heads in the middle of the camp -the outskirts would do. It had one point two times the power of the Hiroshima bomb, not a lot of strength but at least it was clean.

They wouldn't activate their active camouflage, not yet. Drain the power cells wouldn't be the best idea, even if they had auxiliary which would provide them with one more hours of power. The trek was hopefully short, a few kilometers on foot weighed down with gear wasn't what he would call making a short trip.

Forty minutes on foot, time was being consumed too damn fast. The NAVPOINT counter descended and they stopped. They were at the drop off point for the FENRIS warheads. "Drop 'em and arm them, give us a fifteen hours limit. Then blow the panel, I don't want anyone but us hacking into those things."

Alexandria along with Nylund dropped the two hundred pound warhead. She spoke. "Finally, I thought my arms were going to fall off."

"You and me both sister." He rubbed his shoulders; they were in pain so they would have to sit out the next part of the mission. Plus he didn't want any whiney new recruits complaining on how he chose them. "Crichton, Nylund stay here. Reilly you're coming with me."

The younger soldiers nodded, Reilly over the COM gave a. "Aye, sir." And moved towards the weapons sack pulling out a pair of grenades which he attached to his waist. He tightened the silencer over the muzzle of his weapon and looked at Nylund. His words were simple. "Find a tree, grab the sniper rifle in the weapons sack and give us some cover. If we're about to be nailed-"

The team froze, silence. _Bark. _Or that what it sounded like, an odd bark. The team scattered into the trees away from the warheads, they didn't activate their camouflage not yet. They aimed towards the sound where they heard something like _"wort, wort, wort." _

They flicked off their safeties, all using MA5Bs, and saw the first of four creatures come in, two were the same, and the other two were of different species. One came in, moving slowly; almost hobbling forward one hand braced against the ground the other wielding a plasma pistol. A large tank was on their back, one wore crimson armor while the other wore an orange clad armor. They led into the clearing, stopping when they saw the warhead.

Bird-like features the second one had, it stood a bit taller than the grunt and held a orange arm shield and it's bright pink eyes looked at the warhead and quickly stopped waving forward the last creature. This one was much taller than the rest, it wore dark blue armor, its skin was scaly and its eyes had a predator feel to them. It was at least eight feet tall.

Quinn opened the COM. "Take out the elite and jackal first. _Wound _the elite. I want him alive. Take one grunt out, I want to of those bastards alive."

No questions, acknowledgement lights winked green. _Good. _"Fire on my mark. Three. Two." He raised his weapon at the jackal's head.

"Mark."

There were flashes of light from four corners.

The first foe to react was the Jackal, its eyes peered at the single light flash in front of him and it brought its shield to bear, the rounds bounced off, they deflected downward as a grunt maneuvered behind it firing at the other flash. The jackal fired a few shots from its plasma rifle; the lime green blobs heated the air as they went towards their target but to no avail. The shots went wide or over their target's head.

"Jiminy Christmas. That son of bitch almost took my head off…" Nylund began to pick himself off the ground, rising steadily to his feet. His sniper rifle in his arms, a scowl formed on his face. "Well, let me give them their _'Welcome to Vimur'_ gift basket.'"

He took his sights on the closest target, and his rifle bucked once.

The grunt turned, he didn't hear the sound of a whining plasma pistol. He hard nothing but silence from the Jackal. He gave the human equivalent of a frown and turned. First he saw the body, the lanky frame but as he moved up ward he saw the purplish gore trickling down and when he finally got to the head he realized that there was nothing there.

The jackal's shield deactivated which left the grunt in crimson armor exposed. Ms. Crichton took advantage of the situation, aimed at the large methane tank and fired a burst from her weapon. The round tore the tank and the back of the creature exploded in angry outburst of flames, bathing the small clearing in temporary light. That was something they didn't want to do.

But in the end it did work to their advantage, the second grunt was knocked off its feet, the elite who had almost planted two shots on Quinn, heard its shields sputter and die. And it felt the searing pain of armored piercing rounds tear through its long legs, and it fell backward, the grunt was struggling upward reaching for its plasma pistol, so close to it.

Crichton stomped hard on its wrist, there was a sickening crack and the grunt squealed in pain. The elite didn't even try to reach its weapon –from what they could tell blue armors were rookies so they would not be ones to but up such a hard fight. Instead the elite did something interesting, it primed a plasma grenade and prepared to through at the nearest target, Crichton.

The elite was fast but the Quinn was faster, he dove forward, his hand grabbed the elites muscled armed and messed up the aim. The elite's throw went wide; it flew away and detonated harmlessly. Reilly came up next to him and the blow came down hard on the elite's helmet head. It gave a "wort, wort, wort." But grew quiet, its anger in its eyes as it stared up at the four human beings who loomed above him and the worthless grunt.

Nylund had his rifle leveled at its head, while Crichton narrowed her vision at the grunt. Quinn knelt down next to the elite and unpolarized his helmet. He wanted the elite to see his grin on his face.

Quinn spoke through the external COM the smile still plastered on his face.

"Why… Hello there."


	3. Chapter 3

_"Failure is not an option."_

PT. 3

"What now sir?" Nylund looked down at the elite who still scowled at them, angry and full of hate. A creature that one couldn't have imagined in their most nightmarish dreams.

A demon from lore.

A much needed demon for this mission since they needed information.

Quinn opened a message to their Operator on the Philosophy. "Operator we need translations, for an elite and a grunt."

The voice responded approving. "I read. Translation software being patched through, its all yours Lieutenant."

He saw a little download bar on the left corner of his HUD fill up and tapped the small button with his chin. It activated, Office of Naval Intelligence translation software, the finest they had. He knelt down next to the elite and gave a calm question. "I need information; you're going to give it to me, am I clear?"

Quinn made sure his external speakers were on and powered up. He spoke again. "I need information, give it to me."

The elite gave a growl followed by sounds that words couldn't describe and finally ending in a snarl. The voice flooded into his helmet in English. "Pathetic creature, do you really think I shall comply with your pathetic demand. My gods will honor me for my strength and they shall kill you for your weakness."

Covenant. They didn't realize that he didn't give a damn about their gods nor what they could do or what they wanted to do. He frowned. "Give me the information I ask or I will be forced to extract it from you."

A few odd combinations of words before the translation came through. "Never, human. I would rather die."

Quinn contemplated about this, thought for a few moments about his predicament about how to get information from a prisoner of war before he came down to final conclusion. He stood up, withdrew his pistol –in one quick fluid movement.

Fired.

The gun bucked once as the M6D pistol's round tore through the elites head and exited the other end, it slumped down not moving.

He saw Nylund look at him but the others didn't even glance they just stared at the elite before turning to the now very frightened grunt. Quinn moved through the cold grass and knelt down by the new creature, its eyes wide and it giving little whines as it sat there, scared.

"Look here grunt, I am not here to play games, nor am I here to make your life present but I will let you live if I get the information I need. Just nod if you understand." The creature nodded, its head moving quickly up and down full of fright. "Good. I need to know where their holding prisoners of war of the human type."

The grunt looked up at the other three creatures that loomed behind the one sitting in front of him. It gave a few odd barks and growls. "They… Elites have them, north of camp. Surrounded by the Lekgolo." The last part got him and he frowned, and looked back at the team. He was about to question the operator but he was stopped.

"Way ahead of you Quinn. There are no translation for a creature or vehicle called a 'Lekgolo' but I'm still looking through the database, I'll respond if I have anything."

He didn't respond to the Operator and spoke to the grunt. "Good. Now I need information on anything unexpected, and I want it all because trust me, I will come looking for you and only you and you don't want to be on my bad side."

The grunt eyes widened, it gave a specific number of each species. Ten thousand grunts. Five thousand jackals. One thousand elites and twelve pairs of Lekgolo. He still wanted to know if it was an animal or vehicle but the grunt cleared that up with it speaking of it as a massive beast that could stop the best of the elites. That was something to worry about.

Quinn nodded, happy that information for once came so easily. Torturing a grunt wasn't something he wanted to do. "Thank you." He stood and looked down at the grunt, its eyes seeming relieved knowing it would finally be freed. The soldier looked down at the creature, and pistol still in hand took aim dead center at the creatures head. Let this thing go? Not a million years. The pistol bucked once again and the grunt's head snapped back and making a small squeal as it went.

"We're going to get those civilians, no matter what the cost."

"How do you propose we do that?" Crichton spoke; she reached up pulling off her helmet and rubbed a hand through her scarlet hair. She tucked the helmet under her arms and stared at her team leader with a creased frown on her face. Nylund kept his helmet on and stared at her, the emotion his face not able to be seen. Reilly did the same yanking off his helmet, and inhaled sharply. The mission ran into a hurdle, they assumed that that the Covenant didn't take survivors and everyone was dead but they were wrong. This was going to be a problem.

"Well, we can stay along the tree line and go to that area. Once we see something that we don't recognize we know we're in the right place." Quinn gazed into Alexandria's emerald eyes through his unpolarized helmet. She looked back, turning away. She nodded silently.

Reilly brought up another fact that he had forgot. "What about the FENRIS warheads?"

Quinn had forgotten about that, and he looked at warheads that were sitting on the ground, his eyes then turned upward at the thick heavy branches above them. A smile came to his face, "How much rope do we have?"

One. Two. Three. His hands yanked the rope, and the warheads moved upward. He repeated to himself. One. Two. Three. He heaved again, the rope was stressed as he continued to pull upward and then it stopped. Quinn didn't slacken the rope but instead looked upward. "Is it good?"

"Yes, sir. Seems good, just give us a couple minutes to secure it." Alex said, he couldn't see her in the branches or the warheads.

"Just make it quick, I don't want to accidentally make it slip." Quinn gave a strained laugh and continued to hope that the warhead didn't fall. The reason is that there was a good chance there would be another covenant patrol, and most likely when they found the bodies they were going to go searching. And he doubted that they would look up for a few nuclear warheads.

"Sir, they're secured." Ales said.

"Good." He wrapped his end of the rope around a tree and tied it tightly. "Now, ladies and gents lets go get those civilians."

There were acknowledgement lights and he grabbed his rifle from the ground and slung it over his shoulder.

They were ready.


End file.
